Besides, Calendaro does _not_ spit in Bertram's face; he spits _at_ him, as I have seen the Mussulmans do upon the ground when they are in a rage. Again, he _does not in fact despise_ Bertram, though he affects it--as we all do, when angry with one we think our inferior. He is angry at not being allowed to die in his own way (although not afraid of death); and recollect that he suspected and hated Bertram from the first. Israel Bertuccio, on the other hand, is a cooler and more concentrated fellow: he acts upon _principle and impulse_; Calendaro upon _impulse_ and _example_. "So there's argument for you. "The Doge _repeats_;--_true_, but it is from engrossing passion, and because he sees _different_ persons, and is always obliged to recur to the _cause_ uppermost in his mind. His speeches are long:--true, but I wrote for the _closet_, and on the French and Italian model rather than yours, which I think not very highly of, for all your _old_ dramatists, who are long enough too, God knows:--_look_ into any of them. "I return you Foscolo's letter, because it alludes also to his private affairs. I am sorry to see such a man in straits, because I know what they are, or what they were. I never met but three men who would have held out a finger to me: one was yourself, the other William Bankes, and the other a nobleman long ago dead: but of these the first was the only one who offered it while I _really_ wanted it; the second from good will--but I was not in need of Bankes's aid, and would not have accepted it if I had (though I love and esteem him); and the _third_ --------.[82] "So you see that I have seen some strange things in my time. As for your own offer, it was in 1815, when I was in actual uncertainty of five pounds. I rejected it; but I have not forgotten it, although you probably have. "P.S. Foscolo's Ricciardo was lent, with the _leaves uncut_, to some Italians, now in villeggiatura, so that I have had no opportunity of hearing their decision, or of reading it. They seized on it as Foscolo's, and on account of the beauty of the paper and printing, directly. If I find it takes, I will reprint it _here_. The Italians think as highly of Foscolo as they can of any man, divided and miserable as they are, and with neither leisure at present to read, nor head nor heart to judge of any thing but extracts from French newspapers and the Lugano Gazette. "We are all looking at one another, like wolves on their prey in pursuit, only waiting for the first falling on to do unutterable things. They are a great world in chaos, or angels in hell, which you please; but out of chaos came Paradise, and out of hell--I don't know what; but the devil went _in_ there, and he was a fine fellow once, you know.